


i should have loved a thunderbird instead

by uwupigeon



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Crush at First Sight, Daydreaming, Dreaming, F/M, Period-Typical Racism, Self-Insert, Strangers, Unhappy Ending, Yearning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:13:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26071714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uwupigeon/pseuds/uwupigeon
Summary: If there was such a thing as romances that were meant to happen, ones that were orchestrated by fate itself, maybe this could have been one of them. But then again, fate is a cruel mistress and some people aren't meant to live happily ever after.This is the story of how you, a rich, sheltered young woman from Saint Denis, met the mysterious Lenny Summers. This is the story of how you fell in love with a man who wasn't meant to live.
Relationships: Leonard "Lenny" Summers/Reader
Kudos: 5





	i should have loved a thunderbird instead

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there!
> 
> I've decided that there isn't enough Lenny content on here, so here is a little something I wrote. The title was inspired by Sylvia Plath's poem "Mad Girl's Love Song". Also, this is my first time uploading anything and English is not my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any formatting, tagging, grammar or spelling mistakes.
> 
> Enjoy!

The first time you saw him, you were both at the park by the City Hall. He didn't fit in, from the way he was dressed, his clothes looking worn and dirty, as if he didn't change them very often, to the way he behaved, his body language being too unbothered by the looks of the people around him and simultaneously being too tense, as if he couldn't wait to leave. All of it made him stand out and made him all the more intriguing to you.

You, on the other hand, were dressed in a light blue dress Father had bought for you just yesterday, with a hat to match. Funnily enough, you were both wearing blue.

Your back was as straight as you could possibly hold it, always remembering the lessons you were taught on good manners, unlike the strange young gentleman on the bench across from you. Your hands were folded neatly in your lap, and when you weren't shooting coy glances in his direction, you were studying either your well-manicured hands or the grass around you with great interest. After all, it was rude to stare.

When he left, he left you wondering. Who was he? What was he doing in Saint Denis? How could he be so handsome in those ragged clothes?

That night, you dreamed about him. You dreamed that he came to you on a golden horse, that he kissed your hand and then your lips. You dreamed that he whisked you away on an adventure, the kind you only read about in books. For a short while, you were his and he was yours.

From then on, you made sure to always keep your eyes peeled for anyone who looked even remotely like your mystery stranger. You went to the park bench in front if the statue of Quincy T. Harris more often, in some silly hope that he was thinking about you too. Your life wasn't particularly interesting otherwise, so the man who had so shamelessly invaded your daydreams was a welcome change. 

You did not see him for another week, and you had almost lost hope, when you were strolling around your neighborhood. You almost didn't believe your eyes when you saw the almost familiar blue of his coat. 

You almost thought of approaching him, which would have been most unseemly, but he was already talking to someone else. Father wouldn't have approved, anyway. Anyone who was not at least as rich as them, he did not deem worthy of his precious little girl. 

Although you couldn't help but wonder. The man he was talking to wore a similar style of clothing, worn and with suspicious red stains. Was it blood? It was then you noticed the guns at both of their hips. Dangerous men, then. Oh, how Father wouldn't approve. 

Were they outlaws, killing and stealing their way through life? Or were they heroic gunslingers, hunting down bad men and stepping in the way of danger to protect the innocent? Would your mysterious, handsome stranger protect you, were you to be in danger? You almost thought of calling out to him, of pretending to be a damsel in distress for him to save. 

A silly thought, really. Who knew if he would even care, you would just embarass yourself and your family by pathetically causing a scene. If he would just look at you, recognize you from the week before. 

And he did. Or rather, his companion noticed and pointed out that you had been staring at them for a good while and he did look at you then, but there was no telling if he recognized you or not. They quickly left, and your chance had passed you by. 

Not even three days later, you were caught up in your daydreams again, which had consumed you ever since you met the handsome young man on that fateful day. 

That night, you had dreamed of him again. In your dream, there was an evil man, with an unkempt beard and a knife in his hand, threatening you harm, when suddenly, a man with dark sin and eyes and hair to match, hair that looked so incredibly soft to the touch, had put himself between you and the evil man. 

The bad man had scurried away like a scared rat, and your knight in shining armor had turned around and kissed you. This time, he even kissed your neck. What a most indecent thing to dream, and still, you treasured the memory. Indeed, you were so caught up in remembering your imagined nightly escapades, that you did not pay attention when turning a corner. 

Before you knew it, you had collided with a tall and muscular figure. Strong arms grasped your shoulders gently and steadied you, in case you were to lose your balance. "You okay, miss?" 

It was then you looked into his eyes and recognized them almost instantly. If there was such a thing as fate, you were sure it had just extended a helping hand. As you studied his face, the shape of his cheekbones, his hair - you wanted to run your hand through it, just like in your dream - his gaze only grew more worried. "Miss?" 

"Miss Y/N Y/L/N", you answered and realized just as quickly that that hadn't been the question. "I am fine, thank you for asking, kind sir", you added hastily, as if that made it any better. 

The corners of his mouth turned upwards into an amused smile. "Well, Miss Y/L/N, it sure is a pleasure to make your acquaintance." 

You smiled a coy smile as you answered: "The pleasure is all mine, Mister...?" Your voice trailed upwards toward the end of your sentence, if only he would tell you his name. 

Surprisingly, this seemed to throw him for a loop. Eventually, he answered. "Summers. Lenny Summers." 

Even though it should have seemed suspicious to you for him to hesitate before telling something as simple as his name - for all you knew, it could very well be an alias, what if he was an outlaw after all? - you nodded eagerly: "Well then, the pleasure is all mine, Mr. Summers." 

A few seconds passed, both of you were waiting for the other to say something. Eventually, the no longer so mysterious man broke the silence: "Well, I have to get goin' now, so..." 

"Of course, don't let me keep you, Mr. Summers." The name sounded so pretty and fitting for him, there was no way it wasn't real. Your knight in shining armor wouldn't lie to you. 

"See you around, then." He lifted his hand into a kind of awkward wave as you did the same. "Yes, until then", you smiled. 

This exchange left you light-headed for the rest of the day. Even when Father told you the next day not to leave the house - apparently the police were pursuing dangerous criminals who had just robbed the Lemoyne National Bank and civilians were to keep inside to avoid being caught in any crossfire - you had plenty to think about. A future with Mr. Lenny Summers, for example. 

You imagined sneaking out under cover of darkness to see him - after all, Father would never approve - and eventually running away together, taking some of your father's fortune with you to live happily ever after somewhere in the countryside. The two of you would have children together, two or three of them, maybe horses to go for rides at sunset. He would protect you from any harm and you would grow old together, happily ever after. 

That was, until you sauntered down to the sitting room where Father was reading the newspaper. "They shot one of those low-life bank robbers, some darkie running with some dangerous gang. Good riddance, if you ask me." 

"May I read it after you?", you asked politely. "Of course, darling, you can have it, I need to write some letters anyway." With that, he handed you the newspaper and left the room. 

When you saw the picture on the front page, your heart sank to your stomach. It was a black-and-white photograph of your mystery stranger, your knight in shining armor, Mr. Lenny Summers. _Dangerous Van-der-Linde gang member dead after shootout with police _, it said in bold letters.__

__Tears welled up in your eyes as you stifled your sobs and silently mourned the death of the man you had fallen in love with without even knowing him. Your delicate fingers caressed the lifeless picture's cheek gently while your heart ached from the loss of what could have been and now never would be._ _


End file.
